


Nowhere To Run **SLOW UPDATES**

by Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs (orphan_account)



Series: Enslaved [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Beating, Cruelty, Crying, Dark, Dirty Dancing, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dominance, Double Penetration, Drinking, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, Gore, Illegal Activities, Injury, Knotting, M/M, Master/Pet, Mistakes, Mocking, Multiple Orgasms, Murder, Mutilation, Near Death Experiences, Oral Knotting, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painplay, Past Relationship(s), Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Prostitution, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reclaiming, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Slavery, Spanking, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Submission, Unconscious Sex, Verbal Abuse, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-15 10:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8052472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs
Summary: Drift thought he had left everything behind when he had found a way out of the gutters, even if that way wasn't the most satisfactory. He had thought that everything from his time in the gutters was behind him... Especially Tarn. But after Drift receives an anonymous 'gift', he realizes that Tarn hasn't left HIM behind. Everything begins to fall apart as his former 'lover' attempts to retake what he deems to be his own, willing to kill, maim and destroy anything or anybot that gets in his path... But there are other mechs that have developed an infatuation with Drift, who can only watch as two cruel, possessive mechs battle it out for him... Will he ever get to expierence a REAL relationship? He begins to form an affection for the first mech to care about him, and things get ugly.****SUMMARY****** SUMMARY MAY CHANGE!!!





	1. Escaping The Gutters

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little plot bunny that jumped into my head after I saw this photo lol. http://pre00.deviantart.net/f4f9/th/pre/i/2012/217/8/5/2_mtmte_30_by_aiuke-d59xe77.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> Some Characters for this chapter:  
> Rodimus/Hot Rod Prime, Drift/Deadlock, Barricade, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Tracks (Out of Character), Swindle, Brawl, Vortex, OCs, Turmoil, Skywarp.
> 
> Here is the image I used for Tracks: http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eq_ZWRbSEFc/TqEIvjfS92I/AAAAAAAAAdc/y7ojP4HwySU/s1600/tf_cs_tfp-tracks_small.jpg  
>  
> 
> I'm not sure if this will get better towards the end of the story, I'm not sure... Maybe... Depends on what people think of it and what they want. :)
> 
> PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, THIS IS DARK AND NOT SUITABLE FOR ANYONE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE!!!!

"I don't know, mech... You don't exactly look like you could do much for me here." The tan and purple mech stated from where he sat behind a large desk in the ornate office of Exotic Fantasies, a high end brothel in the bowels of Kaon... Although it wasn't exactly 'known' by those but the mechs that saw nothing wrong in dealing with a little illegal activities, and the mech behind the desk was good at keeping what he had here hidden... It took a lot of work to create the business that filled his subspace with credits, and he wasn't about to let anyone just come into his place... Especially when they could be an undercover agent attempting to get his guard down before reporting his tidy little business. Drift looked up at the mech behind the desk, blue optics dim as he shifted where he stood... He knew he didn't look the greatest, once-white plating now dented, scraped and covered with layers of grime. "But Swindle, s-sir... I could make you a good profit! I-I am well versed..." Drift shifted, faceplates heating as he looked at the dealer that gave him a little smirk, pedes on the desk as he gave a bark of laughter. "You sure don't _look_ like you are... You still blush like a sealed mech!" The jeep laughed aloud, only causing the gutter mech to turn his optics away towards the ground.

"Just let me throw him out, Swin... He's obviously not going to be any use around here." The copter standing behind Swindle, stated aloud now, visored gaze turning onto the young mech for a long moment, causing Drift to squirm.

Swindle chuckled at his gestalt mate and held up a servo to keep Vortex from doing as he pleased. "Now now, Vortex. No need to be hasty." He purred, Vortex letting out an annoyed growl but staying where he was as the jeep turned his attention back onto the nervous mech standing a little away from him. "You know, uh... What was your designation again?" The tan mech asked, giving the other mech a look.

Drift straightened and shifted. "D-Drift... Sir." He answered, Swindle waving a servo at him dismissively. "Drift, yes, of course. Do you realize that walking in here was a dangerous decision on your part? I could easily offline you and dump you back in the gutters. No mech would miss you." Swindle stated, not missing the flinch his words caused the cute mech, pausing purposefully to let his words sink in before speaking again. "But you see, that wouldn't bring me any profit." The dealer nearly laughed aloud when he noticed the dirtied mech relax as if he was safe. "So Drift.... I don't even have to do anything with you. I could take you and sell you off to the first mech that would take a piece of shareware like you. I don't lose credits paying a mech to work, someone gets a fragtoy, and everyone's happy." Swindle's pedes were removed from the desk as the jeep leaned forwards, smirking. "Get the picture?"

Flinching again, Drift glanced at Vortex, attempting to think of something to say. "I-I didn't expect to get paid, S-Sir...." Drift responded, tone obviously frightened as he shifted again, his joints giving off a pained groan as blue optics darted all around the room before landing on Swindle again. "I-I was gonna work f-for free... I just want energon and a b-berth... Occasional b-boosters." He responded.

Swindle raised his optical ridges and leaned back in his seat now. "Well, that is definitely something I'm more interested in." The jeep responded, Vortex now unable to keep silent. "What?? You can't just let him into the business like that, Swin! He could report us!" The copter hissed, taking a step forwards and causing Drift to take a step back, the dirty gutter mech looking like he was about to flee at any moment. "Vortex, I'm the one that started this business, I'm the one paying _you._ So if you don't stop interrupting, I'll have Onslaught remove you." The jeep threatened, effectively stopping Vortex in his tracks, the copter growling and crossing his arms firmly over his chassis, rotors flicking with agitation.

With his comrade remaining put, Swindle turned his attentions back onto Drift. "You will be expected to do exactly what I say. You will not be able to leave this building and be under constant surveillance at all times." The jeep spoke, not missing the expression of hope in the optics of the mech standing across from him. "Understand, Drift. Here, you are nothing but a valve for mechs to frag into oblivion. You do well and as you're told, I'll make sure you have a berth to rest in, and energon in your tanks. Any damages caused by customers will be repaired by the medic here. Do you understand all of this?"

Drift couldn't believe it... Swindle was actually going to let him stay! Sure, he was nothing better than a slave here, but that was preferred from the gutters, where he could be offlined at any moment or starve. Here, so long as he obeyed and did his work, he would be fueled, repaired and have a relatively safe place to recharge. He nodded eagerly when he noticed that Swindle was waiting for a response. "Y-Yes sir. You won't regret anything! I swear to do whatever you want!" The mech responded eagerly, Swindle giving a brief nod before pulling up a datapad and tapping a few times at the screen. "You will have to sign here, stating that you do this by your own choice, sell yourself to me, and all that other stuff." The jeep ordered, pushing the datapad over to Drift, who looked down at it blankly, then back up at him.

Venting loudly, Swindle rolled his purple optics. "You can't write, can you?" He asked, snorting at the embarrassed shake of the white helm, motioning to it. "Then just put glyph there." He ordered, Drift looking unsure of himself as he marked his place where he was told, handing the datapad back to the mech across from him, Swindle subspacing it. Even if prostitution and slavery was illegal, he could still get a good following if he was ever exposed having everything in lawful order... Every mech or femme that worked for him was forced to sign, and it would hold a lot of weight in the courts should he be found out. "Now that that's settled, Vortex will bring you to the detailer. You'll be cleaned up and re-painted. The building opens within the next two joor." The jeep stated, looking up at Vortex, who brushed passed Drift to the door. "Follow me." He ordered gruffly, the young, dirty mech trotting after him quickly.

Drift felt both relief and terror at the fact that he had just sold himself to Swindle... _Permanently_. The good side was that so long as he did what he was told, he would be cared for... But he would never see Tarn again... Drift shook that thought away. Tarn was already gone. He hadn't come back to their little place beneath the bridge, and if he hadn't been offlined, he most likely abandoned the smaller mech to his fate... Sure, Drift didn't give him much time to come back, escaping from the frightening mech that was the cause of much of the damage to his frame and valve... He couldn't stay with Tarn. Hopefully the tank would find someone more suitable, and forget about Drift altogether.

Not paying attention to anything since he was locked so deeply in his own thoughts, Drift let out a little cry when taloned digits wrapped around his finials and his helm was slammed against the wall hard enough for him to see stars, crying out in pain. "Listen here, you little runt." Vortex's cold voice hissed into his audial, Drift tensing but ceasing his struggle for fear more damage might be done to his sensitive finials, blue optics wide as he vented heavily. "If you so much as make a /mistake/, I'll make sure you don't function long enough for Swindle to find out. He might see you as a way to make credits, but I think you should've been left in the gutters to offline."

Opening his mouth in an attempt to respond, Drift choked on his words when the servos gripping his finials squeezed harder, the metal denting under the pressure as he let out a whimper, shutting his mouth. "Yeah, shut yourself up piece of shareware." Vortex hissed into his audio, and Drift wasn't sure if he could detect an undertone of lust there. "Just remember, I'm watching you little slut." The copter whispered against his audio before his glossa dragged slowly across the sensitive metal, Drift shivering and biting back a whimper as the grip on his finials was released, the gutter mech remaining pressed against the wall until Vortex had moved a comfortable distance away, slowly straightening and averting his optics onto the ground.

Vortex snorted in amusement as he looked down at the frightened mech. "You seem like you've already been broken... That isn't any fun." The copter scoffed at the other mech, both amused and irritated all at once, a deadly combination if Swindle hadn't told him to prepare the mech. "Follow me, gutter waste." He ordered in a firm tone, turning and heading back down the hall, hearing the steps of the smaller mech following, leading Drift until he reached a door and it slid open into a clean, not to fancy room. "Hey, Ace! Get your aft over here!" He shouted into the room.

Stepping inside behind Vortex, Drift looked around the room, interested in his surroundings as a little side door opened and a mech, a head shorter than Drift himself was, slunk out from some back room, approaching Vortex with a wary look on his faceplates. "Yes, Master Vortex?" The newcomer asked in a fearful tone, and Drift pitied him... Vortex was frightening, but Ace looked absolutely terrified of the copter, visibly trembling, but that reaction only brought a smirk to Vortex's lips. 

Crying out at a sudden grip on his arm, Drift was jerked forwards by the cruel mech, who thrust him towards Ace, nearly sending the mech off balance and to the floor, Drift backing up with a mumbled apology. "Swindle wants this little piece of scrap cleaned up and detailed." Vortex stated in a firm tone, giving Drift a disgusted look before stepping closer to them and taking Ace's chin in his servo, yanking the smaller mech's helm up so blue optics were forced to look into his visor, Drift wincing at how painful it looked. "And once you're done with that, I want you to come and find me." Vortex ordered in a low voice. "I feel like you've been avoiding me." He added, a smirk twitching on his lips at the soft whimper Ace gave off, Vortex finally releasing the mech's chin and turning around, leaving the room.

Drift stood in silence, unsure on if he should attempt to speak, see if Ace was alright, or just stay where he was. When the silence dragged on for several more moments, Ace just staring at the door that Vortex had vacated through, Drift shifted. "H-He's... Frightening." He managed to get out, Ace's blue optics turning onto him as a shudder passed through the lithe green frame. "H-He's... Worse when in one of his moods." The mech answered, Drift looking him over. He was small, and so agilely built it looked as if he could be broken in two if one wasn't careful, frame painted a deep green with teal and purple markings, making Ace out to be quite handsome.

"Let's get you... Cleaned up." Ace finally spoke up again, turning away from the door and walking towards the back door again, vanishing for a moment before Drift followed, stepping through the door. 

It was silent again as Drift watched Ace work, the mech seeming to slowly relax as he did so, pouring different mixtures into a large oil bath before he tested the temperature with his pede, motioning for the white mech to get into the pool, Drift slowly complying.

Slag... The feeling of the hot oils seeping into neglected joints caused the white speedster to moan, Drift tensing up and flushing as he looked over at Ace, who only offered a little smile. "They all do that... Especially when they're in... A bad condition." The green mech stated, as if he had struggled to find words that wouldn't be seen as terribly offensive, not that Drift would've minded either way.

Sinking down to his neck in the oils, Drift watched Ace for several moments, the little mech moving around at another pool, Drift content to just lay back and allow the oil to soak into his frame, armour splaying out away from his frame to let it into all of the hard to reach places, a shudder pacing through his frame... he was sure he'd have been able to fall into recharge had he really wanted to, but Ace's voice broke through his reverie. "So... How did they catch you?" The smaller mech was suddenly at the edge of the oil bath again, watching him with a cocked helm.

Drift frowned a little, feeling slightly embarrassed about the answer, and he averted his optics. "I came to them." He answered in a soft tone, Ace looking first confused, then shocked. "Why...?" He asked, Drift letting out a snort of laughter, arm lifting out of the pool to gesture at his submerged frame. "You saw how I looked... I'd rather be a pleasurebot than starve in the gutters... I'd get raped there anyways." The speedster answered in a depressed tone.

Several moments passed by in agonizing silence before Ace spoke up again. "Well, that's understandable... Me? I was out with friends... And well, I drank a little too much. Felt real sick all of a sudden, then I woke up in... In Vortex's room... He touched me... It hurt real bad the first time." The small mech spoke in a near whisper, a shudder passing through his frame as he looked as if he was about to cry, biting his lip as Drift raised himself out of the pool, not exactly surprised... He had known what Swindle was doing was illegal, and he suspected some of the pleasure bots there weren't there of their own accord like he himself was.

Drift wished that he could stay there, immersed in the warm oil until long after it cooled, but he knew that that wasn't an option, especially since Swindle seemed to want him to be prepared as quickly as he possibly could be.

"C'mon. Still gotta clean you off and detail you." Ace ordered from above, watching Drift climb out, obviously unwilling, and led him over to a set of washracks, pushing the mech under the nozzle, a spray of solvent shooting out, causing Drift to yelp in surprise as the smaller mech grabbed a wool brush, scrubbing expertly at dirtied plating.

Wincing at the aggression Ace put into scrubbing his frame clean, Drift just stood as still as he could, feeling awkward at being unable to clean himself, so he just remained in place and let Ace to manuever him however he wished to. Besides, the solvent washing over his frame feeling so good, and watching the grime of the time that he had spent in the gutter washing out of his joints, staining the water a blackish-brown as it ran down the drain beneath his pedes.

Once Drift was cleaned to the point that he it almost hurt, the smaller green mech led him over to be placed beneath a drier, Ace moving away to set up a table of tools, waxes and paints, eventually coming back to bring Drift over to stand near the table. Setting to work repainting the factory gray armour a pristine white, detailing it with red before he stepped back to admire his own work. "Now... This part is gonna sting a little, but if you don't stand still, we'll have to do it all over again, and Vortex will make sure we both regret it." Ace murmured, voice wavering slightly as he spoke of the copter, reaching over to a table and picking up a short metal rod, the tip holding a heated brand, the mark of Swindle's trade. 

Drift tensed up at the sight of it and pressed himself against a wall in an attempt to keep himself upright and still, watching as Ace approached, the other mech placing a servo against his shoulder and pressing firmly. There was a brief moment of nothing as Drift shut his optics, but then there was pain, and he let out a whimper, unable to conceal it as he fought the urge to writhe or push Ace away. Even after the brand left his plating, he could smell the scent of burned metal, the pain lingering until he felt something cold and slick being applied to the brand wound, the unknown gel numbing the pain to a dull throb.

Venting softly in relief, Drift offered the smallest of smiles to Ace. "Thanks." He murmured, Ace giving a small nod though he didn't make optic contact with the gutter mech, picking up a steel ring from the table, finely engraved and looked up at the taller mech apologetically. "This is... Uh... Permanent." He stated, reaching up and clicking the collar in place around Drift's neck cables, the white mech grimacing slightly. Sure, he was a slave, a pleasure bot now, but the collar was uncomfortable, an unfamiliar weight around his neck and a constant reminder of just how low he had fallen. "Still... Thanks." He said again, this time Ace looking up at him and offering a small smile before turning away. "Vortex will most likely be-" He was cut off by said copter's appearance in the doorway, bringing Drift to wonder if Vortex had been waiting outside the door the whole time.

At the sensation of those visored optics raking down his clean and re-painted frame, Drift shuddered, the gaze almost as tangible as claws. A feral grin spread over the copter's lip components as he cocked his helm. "All ready?" He stated, an underlying purr in his voice as he moved towards the tense white and red mech, looking him up and down again. "Quite nice. You look better beneath the dirt." Vortex hummed, clapping his servos together and putting on a smile that was almost cold. "Well. Things are being set up, so come with me." He ordered, moving towards the door and snagging Ace by his collar as he passed, the smaller mech whimpering as he was pulled along.

Frowning at the treatment of the other mech, Drift followed behind Vortex and Ace, noticing the plain panic in the other's optics, the small tremors that passed through the green frame, and he found himself pitying Ace... Vortex didn't seem to be the kindest of mechs, and Ace seemed to be unlucky enough to be the center of the helicopter's attentions. Something that Drift didn't envy him.

Led from the halls into a dimly lit room, illuminated by dim red lights along the walls, Drift paused to take in his surroundings. There was a 'U' shaped stage, a pole at each end of it, and the rounded part of the stage was laid out a finely made berth. All sorts of colorful thermal blankets and pillows were scattered upon it, but what attracted Drift's attention most was the box of chains, gags and other objects directly beside it, causing him to shudder. So he would be expected to dance and be bound for others' pleasure? Unsettling, at the very best.

Swindle sidled up now, completely ignoring Vortex and Ace, the copter taking his leave and pulling the smaller slave along, but to where, Drift didn't have time to find out when his new 'master' was speaking to him. "Alright. So we're gonna have guests soon. Of course, I'm not going to expect you to pole dance or any of that scrap since you most likely have no fragging clue about how to do so, am I right?"

At the jeep's words, Drift flushed and nodded, averting his optics.

"I'm sorry?" Swindle spoke in a sarcastic tone. "You will address me correctly and verbally." He ordered in a cold tone, Drift grimacing but obeying, staring down at the ground in defference. "Yes, Master." He responded carefully, the jeep seeming satisfied. "Now, you won't usually have an option for this, but, since you're new, I'll offer you a choice this once. Do you want an aphrodisiac?"

Drift jerked at the outright question, staring at Swindle in disbelief. "A what?" He asked, unsure if he had heard just right. At the large purple optics clouding over, Drift hurriedly corrected himself. "What are you asking, Master?" He asked quickly, Swindle eyeing him before giving a snort of amusement. "Do you want an aphrodisiac? You know, a drug that gets you running hot?" The slaver demanded, obviously becoming annoyed with the gutter mech's misunderstandings.

Hesitating, Drift tried to think of _why_ he would need an aphrodisiac, but decided that he should keep the questions to a minimum, as of yet. "I'd like to remain... Myself, Master... If not for anything but to be able to observe and learn while being fully aware." He answered, Swindle snorting in response, muttering something the speedster didn't pick up on, and was sure he probably didn't want to know. "Fine, fine. Then you'll just be mingling as of yet. If someone wants you, tell them you're assigned to room 8. They'll know what to do." The jeep ordered, leaving before Drift could ask anything else.

Venting, the speedster was about to go and search for the other pleasure bots when a shouted curse caused him to jump, the newly detailed mech turning around to watch two massive mechs drag a smaller one between them, the brightly colored mech cursing and thrashing between them. "Let go you slaggers! I swear to Primus if anyone tries to rape me again I'll cut their spike off! Put me down!" The lively mech continued fighting as he was dragged passed Drift and to the stage, the two larger mechs pinning the mech down the berth.

Drift hesitantly moved closer to watch, one of the big mechs cursing when the fiery colored one kicked him in the hip joint, the smaller mech looking smug until he was cuffed upside the helm. "Hey, hey! The boss said not to damage him again!" The dark purple mech snarled to his compatriot, who snorted. "Then he should reprogram this little slagger. I swear, cute aft and all, but his mouth is a real turn-off."

Listening in from only a few meters away, Drift trembled slightly, and began to doubt that selling himself to Swindle was really a good idea, watching the small red, orange and yellow mech thrash as he was chained down, servos above his helm and a strange bar keeping his legs forcibly spread before they, too, were chained down. 

"I'm going to dismantle you when I get out of here! I swear to Primus I will!" The small pleasure mech snarled as he thrashed and bucked in his bonds, one of the big brutes pressing a servo on his abdominal plating to hold him down while the other produced a needle, making Drift flinch, the fiery little mech noticing it and doubling his efforts to escape, but was helpless as the needle was inserted into his neck cabling, the contents emptying into his frame.

As if he had realized that his fighting was futile now, the small, brightly colored mech, slumped in his bonds, letting out a pitiful whimper that only caused the black and white brute to laugh and stroke his faceplates mockingly. "If you didn't fight all the time, Roddy, we wouldn't have to drug ya up nice and good, huh?" The mech leered at the pleasure bot, who responded with a little keen, optics brighter by several degrees than they had been kliks ago. "There. Let's leave 'im Barricade. He ain't goin' anywhere." The purple mech stated, Barricade chuckling. "Nah. I think he needs one more thing." He answered his companion, grabbing a ball gag from the box nearby and forcing Roddy's mouth open, pushing the metal sphere between his lips and strapping it in place. "There. Now he looks perfect." Barricade hummed, standing upright and giving the colorful mech a smack on the thigh, causing Roddy to buck his hips upwards and moan around the gag... It all made Drift sick to his tanks.

"What're you lookin' at runt?" Barricade demanded as he stepped off the stage and pushed passed Drift, the purple mech following and giving the white and red pleasure mech a cursory glance, allowing Drift to read the interest in the red optics that made him shift uncomfortably, then they were both gone.

Other bots appeared, a set of twins, red and yellow respectively and drugged up beyond coherence, were dragged through the main room to the stage, leashes clipped to the poles on either end of the "U" shaped platform. Drift watched as the mechs, optics dim with exhaustion and the drugs, swayed their hips and ground against the poles, perhaps for friction, or because they were doing what they were told... Unknown to Drift, Swindle had found the perfect way to keep the twins tamed, besides the drugs, he had discovered that neither wanted the other to be in pain, so he just threatened the two with the welfare of the other.

Drift vented quietly and moved away, more pleasure bots appearing, but time passed by too quickly before the doors were opened and guests began to trickle in, seating themselves and being served fine high grade and treats, watching the show of the twin pleasure mechs dancing elegantly and dirtily. Drift grimacing when he saw Barricade putting on a show with the brightly coloured mech, Roddy, the muffled cries heard above the loud music, the brightly coloured lights causing the gutter mech to feel the irritations of an oncoming helm ache.

A mech was suddenly there, massive and foreboding, a cursory glance informing Drift that he was of tank build like the purple mech that had shown interest in him earlier, and he shrank back a little into the corner, the tank glaring at him through a red visor. "You're the new mech, aren't you?" The tank demanded, Drift grimacing but nodding. "Yes... Sir." He responded, the massive mech snorting. " _Master_ , whore." He answered firmly. "I'm Brawl. One of Swindle's brothers, and he told me to make sure you were mingling." Brawl stated, giving the white and red mech a pointed look. "But it don't look like you're doing anything, now does it?"

Drift felt a flicker of fear pass through his frame as he looked up at the much bigger mech. "I-I don't know what to do... I was watching the others to see what they did, I-" Drift was cut off when Brawl slapped him hard enough that he had to reboot his optics to see again, cheek plating slightly dented as the tank grasped his chin tightly and jerked his helm upwards at a painful angle, forcing blue optics to look into the crimson visor. "Their jobs aren't yours, now are they?" Brawl responded sharply, jerking the mech a little closer. "So you either go out there and flirt, grind, lap dance, I don't care what the frag you do. If you keep sneaking around, I'll slam you over one of the tables and frag you into oblivion. You go around and get attention, get mechs to rent you, and we'll get along fine, got it?"

Nodding rapidly, Drift rubbed his chin when he was released, optics down turned as he slipped around the dull colored tank and wove into the crowd. Drift searched for a mech that looked friendlier than the majority of the patrons, and that was of a size similar to his own... He wasn't interested in interfacing a brute like Barricade... or one of the triple changers he had seen milling about.

A blue and white mech finally attracted the attention of Drift, who studied him for a moment before carefully approaching. The mech wasn't slim, but he wasn't bulky either, and had a strange, almost exotic red faceplating, golden optics watching the activities around him. He had an air of authority, and was about the same size as Drift, maybe a little bigger, but carried a sense of superiority as well. Not the best of mechs, but Drift was well aware of the fact that Brawl was watching him.

Drift tried his best to look attractive as he sidled up to the mech, straddling blue thighs and pressing in close to the mech, servos moving to fondle the seams in his back armour as the white and red mech placed a kiss to red lips, letting out a soft whine of what he hoped sounded like need.

The strange mech took a moment to respond, and Drift became slightly worried as he went to pull away from the kiss just as a servo fell on the back of his helm and held him in place. Denta nipped at Drift's lips, causing the young mech to gasp softly in surprise, the blue and white mech taking advantage to slip his glossa into the pleasure mech's mouth. Shuddering, Drift moaned and opened his mouth a little wider, rubbing glossas with the other mech before the yellow opticed bot pulled away, studying him with golden optics. 

"You aren't drugged."

The comment took Drift off guard and he studied the other mech for several moments before responding. "It's my first night. I was given the choice." He answered carefully, cocking his helm. "And I'm here by choice... The others, I'm not so sure about." He added, the blue and white mech letting out a dry laugh. "It's obvious. I'm Tracks." Tracks responded, servos coming to rest on Drift's waist, the white and red mech offering a smile, albeit a nervous one. "Drift." He answered.

"Huh." Tracks grunted in disinterest, servos caressing white thigh plating before moving down to cup the pert little aft, giving a hard squeeze, causing Drift to let out a soft whine, drawing golden optics back onto him. "You sealed?" Tracks asked, Drift biting his lip and shaking his helm. "N-No sir." He answered, choosing to use the word 'sir', hoping it was deferential enough for the blue and white mech.

"Thought as much." Tracks growled out a vent, leaning back in his seat and tugging Drift along until the white speedster lay over top of him, Drift choosing not to respond to the blue mech's statement. "So what're your talents?" Tracks asked, causing the white pleasure mech to look up at him. "I-I'm not really sure, as of yet... I've faced once... That's it." He answered, faceplates heating in embarrassment, causing Tracks to laugh loudly. "Still pretty innocent. Tell me, have you sucked spike before?" He asked, Drift shaking his helm after briefly hesitating. "Good." Tracks purred, sitting up and all but pushing Drift from his lap.

Drift managed to land on his pedes with a small stumble, watching as Tracks spread his legs and motioned with a digit for Drift to kneel, the white mech frowning. "Shouldn't we go to my assigned room?" He asked in slight confusion, the red lips curling up into a smile that never reached the golden optics. "Don't have too. Now get on your knees." He ordered, Drift's frown deepening before he slowly got down on his knee joints and Tracks grabbed at his finials, tugging roughly, drawing a whimper from the white mech who quickly moved along with the tugging servos to keep from injuring his sensitive finials.

"Good mech." Tracks hummed as he pulled Drift's faceplating right against his pelvic unit, giving a light squeeze to the metal in his grasp, causing a shudder to pass through the speeder's frame, making him chuckle. "Sensitive, are we?" The blue mech stated in approval before releasing Drift. "Now, all you have to do is service my spike. Lick, suck, rub. Whatever. Just make it good and you get paid."

Nodding, Drift slowly parted his lips to give a little lick to the larger mech's spike paneling, the blue mech giving a sharp intake, encouraging Drift to press his glossa to the heated metal and slowly drag it along the thin panel. It wasn't as bad as he had suspected, and Drift pressed his lips to the panel, giving a rough suck. "That's it." Tracks grunted.

Drift was about to continue when someone grabbed him by the back of his collar and jerked him clear of the blue mech, causing him to choke as he stood on the tips of his pedes to keep his neck cabling from cinching and cutting off his air.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" Tracks demanded, beginning to stand when the larger mech shoved him back down. "I rented him. So stay where you are noble, before I suggest they collar you as well." A familiar voice snarled and Drift attempted to place it, a deep frown on his faceplates as he stared at Tracks with wide optics and opened his mouth to protest when his captor set him down enough for him to stumble along as best he could, his new customer dragging him through the dancing mechs and femmes. 

Drift tried to figure out who it was that had a grip on his collar, but his optical feed was filled with purple plating as he was jostled along and down a hall, lined with doorways, until his captor stopped at the door numbered 8, holding a card against the lock for a few moments before the door unlocked with a click, and Drift found himself all but tossed into the room.

Scrambling to keep his footing, Drift supported himself against the large, lavish berth, turning to look at the mech over his shoulder guard, a whimper leaving his intake when he recognized the mech... It was Barricade's purple companion. "Wh-What do you want?" Drift stammered, pressing back against the berth as the massive mech approached, standing so close that the speedster could feel every hot ex-vent wash over his plating, making him shiver.

"I should think what I want is obvious, little mech." The purple mech growled in lust, red optics boring into Drift's so that he had to turn his helm away. "I paid to have you for an hour or so, and I expect to collect." The deep purple mech responded, a clawed digit trailing along Drift's jawline before stopping to tip his chin up. "Now... On the berth."

Drift swallowed hard at the order, hesitating until the purple mech gave off a low growl, the white and red mech climbing up into the berth then on all fours, about to roll over when a heavy servo fell on the back of his helm, pressing his faceplates into the berth. "Stay like that." The mech ordered, one servo gripping his hip to keep his aft in the air, causing Drift to tremble in frightened anticipation. 

"So small." The purple mech purred, and Drift could've sworn he could feel those red optics raking over his frame, the pleasure mech jumping at the sudden press of a thumb digit to his valve. "Open this up for me, slut." That deep voice growled, Drift biting back a whimper before obeying, the panel sliding back with a soft /shnick/ that sounded so terribly loud in the large room. "Good boy." His patron hummed with a patronizing pat to the white aft plating before two digits were pressed into Drift's valve without warning, causing the white and red mech to yelp in surprise and attempt to lift his helm from the blankets, the massive mech easily keeping his upper body pinned. "Shut up, whore. You'll be getting an awful lot more than that in a moment." 

The cruelly spoken words just caused Drift to feel a pulse of fear in his spark and he began to squirm and wriggle beneath the mech, attempting to escape. This was the worst idea he had ever had!! But it was too late to be regretting the decision he made, Drift crying out when the mech behind him smacked his valve hard enough to jolt his frame. "If you don't shut up, I'll shut you up." The purple mech snarled.

"P-Please sir, I don't know who you are! I-I don't know what I-I'm supposed to do." Drift stammered out, optics squeezed shut as he attempted to lay still, the digits in his valve giving a rough twist, causing the white mech to let out a sound that crossed between a whimper and a moan. "I'm Turmoil, but to you, slut, I'm master." The purple mech ordered firmly. "As for what you do, you just lie there and take it like a good slut." Turmoil added, Drift shaking. He hated being held down, helpless beneath the purple mech, the digits within his valve rasping against the unlubricated walls, drawing little whimpers and gasps from him.

"Slag... Are you like a rock?" Turmoil taunted as he thrust the digits roughly in and out of the smaller mech, who bucked and attempted to pull his aft away, amusing the mech to no end. "Perhaps you need help lubricating? Nothing a little energon won't fix." The massive mech purred, almost directly into Drift's audio, blue optics widening as he began to struggle more desperately. "N-NO! Please, please I'll lubricate!" He pleaded, but Turmoil only laughed and pulled the digits out of his valve, claws raking along the plush, soft walls of Drift's valve, cutting into it and sending the white mech into a panic, thrashing, whimpering and pleading in desperation. 

Turmoil hummed in amusement. " _Now_ you start sounding like the desperate slut you are." The purple tank stated, pressing his scalding hot panel against the white mech's aft, Drift stilling for a moment before resuming his struggling, which was beginning to irritate the bigger mech who growled. "If you keep fighting like that, I'll make sure this is most painful interface you've ever encountered." Turmoil snarled in warning, causing Drift to immediately still. He had no doubts his 'customer' would keep his word. "Hmm. Good boy."

Drift vented heavily, his valve still stinging slightly from the two small cuts in his valve lining when he felt something shift directly against his aft, the speedster gasping in surprise when Turmoil's spike began to pressurize _directly into his valve_!!! He attempted to pull away, but Turmoil's servos on his hips held him firmly in place, the massive length slowly spreading Drift wide, the sensation of the ridged shaft steadily forcing it's way into his unlubricated valve drawing a frightened keen from Drift. "Yeah... Just like that whore." Turmoil purred into the white mech's audio.

Desperate as Turmoil leaned over him and began to push himself up into Drift, the white speedster threw his helm back, hearing something crack as his helm connected with Turmoil's olfactory ridge, the massive tank jerking back and away with a howl of pain. Cupping his valve with a servo, Drift whimpered as he tried to get up and around Turmoil, the angered mech grabbing a finial as he passed. With a sharp, rough twist to the sensitive finial, Turmoil tore a howl from the gutter mech as he was swung around and slammed up against a wall, jerking a whimper from Drift.

"You will be broken, slut. The more you fight it, the more enjoyable it is." Turmoil whispered to Drift, lip components pressed against the other's audio. Something dripped onto Drift's shoulder, causing him to shudder as the purple mech nuzzled his cheek, leaving a smear of energon from the broken nose ridge. "Get... _Off_!" Drift grunted, pressing his servos against the wall, pushing against it, but the tank's weight against his back kept him pinned. "Poor little gutter mech. Yes, I know what you were less than two joors ago." Turmoil all but _moaned_ into the white mech's audio, Drift shutting his optics. "Perhaps I should feel sorry for you... I seem to have lost interest in your valve."

Hope flickered through Drift at that statement... Was Turmoil going to leave him alone?

Shuddering as talons slid down his sides to cup his aft, Drift tensed when he felt Turmoil's thumb digits pressing hard against his aft panel, gasping when he realized what the mech's intentions were. "No! No please! _Ngh_!" Drift cried out as the fragile panel buckled enough for Turmoil to dig two talon tips into the seam of his panel, ripping it clean off with a tug, producing another cry from the pleasure bot.

"Please." Drift whimpered, optics shooting open when he felt that thick spike slide against his aft.. _Oh no_.

Drift barely had time to plead for the mech to stop again when Turmoil placed a servo against the back of his helm, grinding the younger mech's faceplates into the wall and began to push his spike up into the tight aft port of the helpless mech.

Coolant tears built at the corners of Drift's optics, clenching them shut and grinding his denta together as Turmoil steadily pushed more and more of the thick shaft into him, unable to keep his legs from shaking, his knee joints giving out without warning.

Drift threw his helm back, mouth open in a silent scream as his loss of balance caused gravity to impale him completely on Turmoil's ridged spike, the purple tank snarling in appreciation as he released the white helm to grip slender hips, pelvic plating pressed flush to the younger mech's valve. "If I had -ugn!- known you were so... _Eager_ , I would've moved faster." Turmoil taunted Drift between his grunts of pleasure.

Letting out a sob, Drift's legs quivered as Turmoil began to slowly pull out of him, the ridges catching on the lining of the dry, too-tight port, the outward pressure making Drift feel like his aft lining was going with Turmoil's spike, and he let out a static filled cry when that fat spike, swollen from being forced into too small an opening, slammed back into him, the young mech thrashing against the wall.

Something had torn... He knew it... The feeling of a hot trickle down his inner thighs enough of a testament for that, and Drift whimpered as Turmoil began to move more easily, jerking out and thrusting back in, each withdrawal and inward push no less intense than the last, and Drift choked on his cries, denta ground together.

Turmoil snarled, shoving his spike hard back into the mech, grip on the slender hips buckling the armor as it began to dent inwards, the tank pistoning his hips hard enough to slam Drift's faceplates back into the wall with each inward thrust, enjoying the desperate scrabbling of Drift's servos against the wall, looking for a grip. He loved it when his victims struggled, loved the desperation and fear in their fields... Pity, the little mech had a chance to enjoy it.

Drift's aft port was starting to go numb, almost cold, when Turmoil thrust up into him hard enough to make his optical feed fritz, hips pressed flush together as Turmoil roared his overload, spike pumping transfluids into the ruined port, and Drift sagged against the wall, whimpering in pain.

Several moments passed as his port was coated in transfluids, but Drift's optics shot back open when he felt Turmoil's spike begin to swell at the very base, the white mech attempting to pull his hips away, but Turmoil held him in place. As he began to realize what was happening, Drift began to struggle, ignoring the agony in his port as the rim stretched more and more. "N-No! _Please_!" Drift rasped as Turmoil's spike knotted his aft port, stretching the rim until it nearly tore.

Chuckling at the weak struggling, Turmoil hummed and released Drift's hips, digits moving to trace around the trembling port rim, little jolts of pleasure travelling up his spike as Drift attempted to pull away, tugging on the tie. "Get... gah! Out!!" Drift's keen of pain caused Turmoil to chuckle as his grip returned to the dented hips. "As you wish.~" He whispered, Drift's optics widening when he realized what was about to happen. "Noooo! Agh!" He screamed as Turmoil ripped loose of his port and released him, stepping back.

Drift stood for a few moments before sliding down the wall, falling to his knees, a servo moving to cup his injured, bleeding aft, whimpering.

"A pleasure, whore." Turmoil murmured from behind him as he wiped himself off and activated a manual deflation of the knot, allowing his spike to slide back into it's housing with a soft click. "I'll make sure to tell Swindle that your services... Could use work. But look on the bright side, it just means I get to help teach you!" The tank purred in a sing-song voice as he left the room.

Staring down between his legs at the puddle of energon, little swirls of silver transfluids against the bright blue, Drift began to lose consciousness. Realization at the mistake he had made was the last thought to pass through his processor before he lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drift endures the harsh training Swindle subjects his pleasure mechs to, and he mingles a little with the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having difficulty with this story, so I had to ask someone to help me co-write this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks to Malicious_Intent for helping me update this story! :)

Rolling his hips with a soft moan, Drift arched his backstrut and tugged at his servos where they were held above his helm and far enough away that he had to lean forwards while servicing the spike buried in his aft.

 

It still burned, the stretch. It was required that he see a medic every few cycles to have him tightened for the pleasure of the customers, and the white mech ached.

 

Drift whined softly when the clawed digits wrapped around his wrists tightened to the point of pain.

 

“Alright, stop.” Swindle was sitting off to the side, an annoyed expression on his faceplates. “That’s too much, Drift. If you whine _that_ way, you run the risk of turning off a prospective customer, then I lose credits.”

 

Grimacing a little, Drift looked down at Vortex when his servos were released, the copter lying flat on his backstrut, digits interlaced behind his helm as he smirked up at the younger mech. “I certainly don’t mind whining. I’d prefer him to cry a bit too…” The dull-colored mech trailed off.

 

Casting his brother an irritated glance, Swindle stood upright. “Yes, well, that’s _just you_ Vortex.” The jeep stated before turning his purple optics onto the trembling mech, a tiny smirk curling over his lips, “finish Vortex off, Drift. Then you may return to the collective chambers.” He ordered before turning and leaving the room.

 

Left alone with Vortex, Drift couldn’t prevent himself from shaking, frame quivering as he tried not to make eye contact with the mech whose spike he was sitting on. The stories from Ace running rampant through his helm.

 

A sharp, upward thrust had Drift yelping, Vortex giving a bark of laughter as he trailed a clawed digit down the white and red mech’s chassis, a curl of paint flaking off.

 

“You’re so frightened, and I haven’t even had you to myself yet,” the decepticon murmured, the slender pleasure mech fighting hard to keep from trying to climb out of the berth, memories of Turmoil’s horrific attack rising up to the forefront of his thoughts.

 

“I’m s-sorry, Master.” Drift murmured in a shaking voice, rocking his hips slightly in hopes of keeping Vortex’s attention on interface so he could get the helicopter off faster. The sooner he could leave, the better.

 

Vortex hummed softly, swollen spike throbbing with interest when the slim mech rolled those thick hips again, orange optics watching appreciatively as clawed servos found their home there. “Eager to please, aren’t you?”

 

Biting his lower lip, Drift nodded and gave another soft whine, drawing it out a little longer.

 

“But you really have no idea how to.”

 

Drift paused in his movements now, clear, blue optics finally meeting burning orange. “S-s-sorry, Master.” He stammered, struggling to find something to say that would keep Vortex from seeking his own brand of fun.

 

From what he’d heard, Turmoil’s rape of him wasn’t nearly as bad as it could get with Vortex.

 

Looking up at the white and red mech, Vortex gave a long, drawn out vent before placing a sharp slap on a trembling thigh, chuckling at the yelp it earned him. “Keep moving while I explain it to you,” he ordered.

 

Drift nodded quickly, ignoring the burn of his thigh as he lifted himself up Vortex’s spike before dropping back down with a breathy moan. The hum of appreciation encouraging him to repeat the action.

 

Impaling himself again and again on the throbbing spike, Drift couldn’t help whimpering as the ridges on it rubbed against overstimulated nodes. It burned to the point where he was sure he’d been rubbed raw during the time Swindle had taken to ‘train’ him.

 

“Good pets do everything they’re told to do without questioning,” Vortex was murmuring, enraptured with the young mech riding his spike, optics focused on the obvious discomfort depicted on the handsome faceplates. “The would frag themselves on their master’s spikes until they bled if they were told, even _merge_.”

 

A clawed digits traced the seams of Drift’s sparkchambers, the white and red mech freezing as his next moan caught in his throat, optics dialing wide as he jerked backwards. “N-n-no! You can’t merge with me! Please, please let me keep just that!”

 

A servo caught Drift by the throat, the world spinning as he was suddenly slammed down on his backstrut, the young mech feeling dizzy as his gyros were knocked out of place.

 

Vortex rose over top of the white and red mech, smirking at the way he was venting raggedly and seemingly stunned. Waiting for Drift to regain his awareness, the helicopter impaled that quivering valve, laughing when the mech beneath him arched with a wail. “ _Yes_ , Drift. Just like that.”

 

Writhing on the spike pounding into his oversensitive valve, Drift sobbed, kicking and bucking as Vortex abused his aching frame, finding obvious amusement in his torture.

 

Finally Vortex tensed up a little, thrusting hard enough to jostle the younger mech, and overloaded with a snarl.

 

All Drift could do was twitch and whine as the bitter fluids filled his valve, the transfluids stinging as Vortex gave a few, gentle thrusts to work his seed deeper into the mech.

 

Venting hard, the grayish mech smirked as he looked down into the overbright optics, helm tilting. “If I want you to merge with me, you will. Because that’s what you signed up for when you came in here begging for charity.” Vortex whispered, giving the white finial a little lick before pushing himself to his pedes. A quick wipe with a cloth and the copter retracted his spike back into it’s housing. “Now get out.”

 

Groaning softly Drift rolled onto his side, sitting up before dropping off the berth. He nearly lost his balance, and had to grab a hold of the berth to keep from falling, optics fixed on the ground to try and avoid Vortex’s amused gaze. Honestly, while it had been uncomfortable, it hadn’t truly hurt. Not the way Vortex was known for hurting people.

 

Maybe he should be grateful.

  
Drift slunk passed Vortex, not daring to look the other mech in the optic as he stiffly made his way out of the room, waiting for the helicopter to grab at him or maybe strike him, but it didn't come. Why had Vortex not tortured him as he constantly did Ace? He didn't know.

 

Making his way down the now-familiar halls of the nicely-decorative building, Drift quietly went to stand before the door directly next to Swindle's office, staring down at the ground as he patiently waited for the two guards to let him into the large room.

 

Stepping inside, Drift allowed himself to take a look around as he always did: seeing who was in the room and how he was expected to act with those present. The only ones occupying the room was the other slaves, so the white and red mech allowed himself to relax. 

 

The room was rather large, and directly connected to Swindle's office, with a marble flooring and pillars. A catwalk ran around the entirety of the perimeter, high enough that none of those in the room could climb up onto it, patrolled by another guard. Some would think the security was to protect Swindle and his willing harem servants, but it was truly only insurance to prevent any of the slaves from making an escape.

 

Drift quietly wandered over to the large berth that took up a large portion of the corner furthest from the door, skirting the edge of the oil pool (that they were forbidden from using unless it was desired by a high-ranking guest) that was a recent addition. He climbed up onto the berth, easily moving around those already huddled there. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were present, the golden twin holding his brother in a spooning position, blue optics shooting open as a dark scowl twisted the handsome features. Sunstreaker immediately calmed when he realized who it was, relaxing as he pulled his brother a little bit closer, chin on the red mech's shoulder as his optics half-shut again. The yellow twin seemed to be fighting recharge for the sole purpose of watching over the younger, and it broke Drift's spark. Some would think he'd be bitter that the twins were together, had each other, but he was happy for them. Being alone was the worst one could have.

 

When Drift had first arrived, he'd expected to be hated for voluntarily giving himself over to Swindle, to sell his frame to others while those that he slept side by side with were either kidnapped or coerced into it, but he'd found none of that. Each of the other pleasure mechs had seem him as they were, different circumstances but the same purpose in the end. They were all struggling to survive.

 

 "Is Sideswipe alright?" Drift whispered as he settled himself down on his side, watching as those bright, blue optics opened again, Sunstreaker regarding him for a moment before they closed. "As good as he can be. I take as many of his clients as I can, but we can't keep doing this forever. I need to get him out of here."

 

Drift nodded in silence for a moment, shifting uncomfortably as he tried to find a position that didn't hurt. "If you need to, you can send some of them my way." He offered softly so as not to wake Ace and the other two mechs that had only arrived a few days ago. So far they hadn't been brought out yet, and they hadn't spoken to anyone else. "What are you going to do?" The slim mech questioned after a moment of silence, Sunstreaker venting softly. "I don't know yet. I just gotta find a way out of here is all."

 

"If you need help, you know you can trust me, right?" The white and red bot questioned, the faintest curl of lips hinting at one of Sunstreaker's rare smiles as he gave a small nod. "I'd want you to come."

 

Smiling, Drift shook his helm even though he knew Sunstreaker couldn't see it, feeling a bitter amusement to the younger mech's words. "No. I couldn't come. I have no other way to be able to make my way in the world. You and Sideswipe have other talents to help you make a living. Besides, who else is going to throw Swindle off your trail?" He demanded, Sunstreaker's smile becoming sad as he made no response.

 

During his time there -short as it was- Drift had easily seen the talent Sunstreaker had had for art, Sideswipe possessing a high IQ that was unexpected of illiterate mechs abandoned in the Dead End where they were picked up by Swindle's brothers. Sideswipe had taught himself to read and write, though how Drift would never know. It was the red mech's special secret.

 

"You need to do it soon." Drift whispered, breaking up the comfortable silence that had fallen around them. "If you wait too long, you'll make mistakes, and Swindle or one of the others will notice." He explained, Sunstreaker murmuring a soft 'I know' just as Rodimus crawled up into the berth to press close to Drift, the fiery-colored mech not even having to say a word for the slim mech to wrap his arms around his shaking frame. Drift and Rodimus had connected very well, and he knew that Rodimus was in need of comfort after coming from whatever client he'd just taken, and he didn't want to talk either, so Drift remained silent as he held the trembling mech in his arms.

 

Meeting Sunstreaker's gaze with his own, Drift shook his head sadly, the yellow mech seeming to understand as he nodded and turned away.

 

Rodimus only wanted to be held.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't even realize I had this written until now!!! I hope it's good. I didn't read it to see, so if you guys think it needs editing, let me know!!!!

Drift lifted his helm from the berth when he heard the heavy doors open, blue optics dimmed as he watched two mechs enter the room. One was Swindle, while the other was teal with purple highlights and burgundy markings on the pale, white faceplates. He was obviously high-born, his optics an interesting shade of magenta.

 

“These are all of the available mechs that are currently trained,” Swindle was saying as he motioned to the drowsy pleasure mechs all awoken by the unexpected arrival. “Tenvolt and Sidewire are currently useless, so don’t mind them.” The jeep ordered, motioning to the two newcomers.

 

“I must say you were telling the truth when you claimed to have attractive mechs, Swindle. You never fail to impress me,” the noble announced graciously, Swindle dipping his helm. “Please,” he stated, grandly sweeping his servo in the direction of the huddled pleasure mechs. “Look or touch. Find the ones that most please you.”

 

Shifting into a sitting position, Drift mumbled an apology when his change of position jostled Rodimus awake, the firey-colored mech blinking a little in surprise before sitting up as well, every mech now directing their attention at Swindle. They hadn’t been given orders yet, so they just assumed that they should remain where they were.

 

“Would you stand?” The colorful mech asked, motioning a digit at Rodimus.

 

The young mech hesitated a moment before glancing at Drift, the white and red mech nudging him in a desperate attempt to get him to obey. If the other mech didn’t and cost Swindle credits, the jeep would not be forgiving.

 

Rodimus slowly rose to his pedes, blue optics darting around in uncertainty as he was inspected. Even when the noble tilted his chin upwards Rodimus would still not meet his gaze.

 

“Hm. Rather meek.”

 

“Not usually, my lord,” Swindle answered as he sidled up to stand beside his customer. “He’s rather fiery. He’s just a little shaken up by a previous client of his.” The jeep added, Rodimus’ lip lifting slightly in a silent snarl, causing the noble to chuckle. “He seems pretty enough.”

 

“You!”

 

Drift looked up, startled, to see that the noble was pointing at him now. All it took to get the red and white mech standing was a motion of said digit.

 

Standing directly beside Rodimus, Drift kept his gaze on the larger mech’s chassis as his chin was taken into a firm grip, the noble tilting his helm while glancing between him and Rodimus.

 

“They’re nice enough. I want to see them together.” The noble stated, releasing the two mechs as he took a step back.

 

Swindle dipped his helm in reverence, nodding. “Of course, Lord Talon.” The slaver answered, turning his attention onto Rodimus and Drift, expression firm. “Kiss Rodimus, Drift.” He ordered, his voice commanding, but Drift could sense the threat that ran in it’s undercurrent.

 

Drift sensed Rodimus stiffen beside him, the other’s obvious disease causing Drift to hesitate for a moment, Swindle giving him a look that demanded complete obedience.

 

Quickly turning towards Rodimus, Drift turned the brightly colored mech towards himself, servos going up to gently cup the other’s faceplates. “Relax.” He murmured softly as he leaned closer, pausing only briefly before pressing his lips against Rodimus’. The usually fiery mech was tense, and didn’t respond as Drift kissed him, not even when he used glossa and denta in order to encourage the other to participate.

 

“Hm.” Talon rumbled from where he stood, a disapproving look on his faceplates. “He’s pretty, but not what I’m looking for.” The colourful noble announced, motioning Rodimus back, the young mech quietly obeying even as Talon motioned for the twins now.

 

Drift turned to go, but Talon hooked a digit in his collar, tugging him back. “You stay here.” He ordered as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe came to stand alongside him.

 

Talon inspected the two, checking them from all angles, skeptically taking in the condition of their paint and armor. “Good enough,” the taller mech stated dismissively, turning towards Swindle. “Are there any others? You know what I prefer.”

 

The jeep vented softly as he shrugged his shoulders. “There’s one other, a praxian currently being trained.” Swindle answered, falling silent as Talon nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll take the praxian and these three. I trust you’ll have them there for me tomorrow?” He questioned.

 

Swindle gave a winning smile as he dipped his helm. “Of course they’ll be ready for your party.” He responded, walking with the other as they exited the room and left the pleasurebots alone.

 

Everyone turned their attention onto Rodimus, the once abrasive mech trembling as if he’d just contracted a severe virus, the other mechs not saying anything as they returned to the berth. They all knew what was coming, and none of them could make it better.

 

The doors opened to admit one of the guards, one easily recognized as Barricade. “C’mere, Roddy.” The big praxian ordered.

 

Rodimus pushed himself to his pedes as he meekly made his way over to the waiting guard, lower lip trembling as a clawed servo grabbed a hold of his collar and nearly lifted him from the floor.

 

Drift could only silently pray the other mech would be alright as Rodimus was dragged from the room, the doors shutting ominously behind him.

 

“Drift…?”

 

Looking towards the voice, Drift tilted his helm to show he was listening, Sunstreaker scooting a little closer. “Me and Sides are gonna make a break for it tomorrow. Are you still willing to help us? If we need it?” The yellow mech questioned, Drift giving a single nod. “Just make sure they don’t catch you again.” He answered, jerking his helm towards the door. “Or else you’ll end up like Rodimus. You’ll either get beaten to death or sold.”

 

Sunstreaker’s lips were set into a firm line as he studied the slim mech for several moments. “We know.”

 

******************

 

“Heard you’re being shipped out tomorrow night.”

 

The voice was grating, almost a rasp, but deep and so terribly familiar. It sent cold spasms down Drift’s backstrut, the slim mech slowly turning to face the mech, clasping his servos in front of him to try and hide their trembling. “Turmoil,” he greeted as confidently as he could, though his voice did crack slightly, “I haven’t seen you since-“

 

“Since our first time, yes. I had some matters to attend to, but they’re done for now.” The big tank answered, Drift swallowing hard as he tried to nod his helm. “That’s… Very good.”

 

A cruel smile spread over the larger mech’s lips, Turmoil moving closer amidst the drinking and dancing mechs, reaching out to wrap thick fingers around the smaller mech’s throat. “You’re a bad liar.”

 

Drift whimpered, his own servos gripping tightly at the black-plated wrist, trembling as he waited for the pressure to increase until it broke his struts. “Sorry, sir.” He stammered, hoping the apology and correct title would be enough for the other mech.

 

“Look how eager you are to serve now, slut.” Turmoil leered, obviously enjoying the other’s fear as he pressed Drift into the wall. “Eager enough to not try and hit me again?” The tank added, Drift nodding quickly in response.

 

Turmoil snorted a laugh. “Good mech. Get on your knees.”

 

Faceplates flushing in humiliation when those closest to them turned to watch, Drift dropped to his knees the moment his throat was released, helm turned towards the floor until digits reached out to tilt his faceplates upwards.

 

“Look at me,” Turmoil ordered sharply, red optics staring deep into the smaller mech’s until he was sure the pleasure mech understood, servo now moving to Drift’s audial.

 

Flinching at the rough grip the tank took on the sensitive appendage, Drift bit the inside of his lips to keep from whining. He didn’t want to give Turmoil the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt him. “What would you have me do?” Drift asked, straining his neck a little as he moved to lick Turmoil’s spike panelling. “I could make you feel good.”

 

Some of the onlookers broke into drunken laughter while some smiled and turned away to watch Sunstreaker and Sideswipe dance on the stage nearby, music blaring loudly.

 

“Oh, I don’t doubt it! Your aft was a very sweet experience, wasn’t it?” Turmoil questioned, optics gleaming with barely concealed lust. “I have half a mind to take it again, but I quite like seeing you like this.”

 

Drift clenched his denta, staring at the black plating directly in front of him instead of meeting the crimson gaze. “Which would you prefer, sir? I can ride your spike, or I can suck it.” The younger mech answered with what he hoped sounded like a purr, Drift leaning forwards to drag his glossa along the seams of the spike panel.

 

The tank’s vents hitched.

 

“Mm. I think I’d like to see how you are when you’re willing,” Turmoil finally answered, grabbing Drift by the collar to all but toss him atop a table. Glasses were knocked off to shatter on the ground as the pleasure bot’s spark pulsated fearfully. The mechs at the table didn’t seem to mind, laughing as they reached out to touch him, molesting his frame.

 

Drift bit back a moan when a shuttle gave his panels a firm grope, involuntarily arching his backstrut into the touch. His conditioning seemed to have gone well enough, his frame immediately priming itself for whatever would come next: the pleasure, or the pain.

 

Turmoil’s approach was frightening, Drift’s audials drooping as the larger mech came forwards with a wicked grin that allowed the occasional flash of fanged denta to peek through.

 

“Hold his legs!” The tank ordered, the mechs sitting around laughing again as they reached out and grabbed Drift’s legs to yank them apart, pinning them to the hard surface of the table. “And his servos!”

 

Drift groaned softly as his wrists were caught in numerous grips to be pinned down above his helm. He hated crowded nights, but specifically when those that came were all the filthy mechs that just loved a good show.

 

Watching the younger mech’s expression, Turmoil’s smirk widened slightly. “Further.” He ordered, Drift crying out as his legs were jerked even further apart, straining the joint.

 

Venting heavily, optics wide, Drift immediately sent the command for his valve panel to slide open, not wanting Turmoil to rip it off again.

 

His actions only served to further amuse the sadistic mech.

 

Turmoil wandered closer, taking his time, before reaching out a digit to probe at the presented valve, testing it for lubricant. There wasn’t much. Some, but not enough for their size difference.

 

Blue optics locked with red as Turmoil purposefully lifted his digits to his own lips, sucking the two middle ones before moving them back down to Drift’s valve, thrusting them inside without warning.

 

Crying out, Drift jerked against those holding him down, igniting another bout of laughter.

 

“He needs to warm up a bit!” Turmoil shouted above the noise, thrusting his digits in and out of the newly tightened valve, enjoying the way the beautiful mech writhed on the table. “Warm him up a little!”

 

Drift’s chin was caught in a bruising grip, his mouth pried open as high-grade was poured into it, choking him.

 

Sputtering as he tried to keep from sucking the energon into his vents, Drift tried to turn his faceplates away, but the grip was unrelenting and the high grade continued to pour, forcing the mech to try and swallow it down.

 

The mechs surrounding him cheered as the empty cube was tossed aside, leaving the poor pleasure bot to cough and attempt to catch his vents.

 

In the crowd, Drift’s optics caught Vortex’s, the white and red mech sending the other a look of desperation, all but pleading for the other to help him.

 

The helicopter only grinned in response.

 

“Let’s see how much he can take!!”

 

“Frag him until he screams!”

 

The voices were beginning to run together as Drift writhed and thrashed, Turmoil only laughing as he added a third digit, then a fourth.

 

“Stuff him full!”

 

Drift wasn’t in pain, per se, but he was definitely frightened. He didn’t know what to expect as Turmoil ripped his digits loose and smeared the pleasure bot’s own lubricants over his lips and faceplates.

 

“Flip him over!” The tank shouted, Drift barely given any time to struggle as he was roughly manhandled onto his abdomen, Turmoil’s servo grabbing the back of his helm, forcing him to remain in place with his chassis down and aft up in the air. His faceplates hung over the end of the table, and the shuttle from earlier took advantage, pressing his heated panel against the soft lips.

 

There was too much going on at once, Drift bucking and attempting to twist his hips away when something much to large pressed against his valve, the inward push slow and steady. That wasn’t a spike!! There was no way!

 

Drift tried to look behind him, but the shuttle grabbed his helm, another mech forcing his mouth open again, holding it as his larger companion’s spike pressurized right into the helpless mech’s mouth.

 

Whimpering with the strain to his jaw, Drift began to suckle as best he could, glossa all but pinned to the bottom of his mouth by the hot spike.

 

Optical fluids were streaming down his faceplates as Turmoil continued pressing his fist into him from behind, the others cheering and laughing as some reached out to pet his swelling abdomen. The tank not stopping until his fist and arm were as deep as possible, leaving a bulge in his stomach.

 

Drift couldn’t hold back a moan as Turmoil began to draw it back out, lubricants gushing out from around it as the smaller mech’s valve clenched and spasmed eagerly.

 

A thrust of the spike in his mouth was enough to remind Drift that he had other duties to attend to, the white and red mech awkwardly bobbing his helm over the swollen organ, moaning loudly as his valve was thoroughly worked by the tank behind him. Someone else was sticking digits into his port, but Drift couldn’t help but enjoy it. His frame translated it all as pleasure, accepting it with eagerness.

 

“You like this don’t you?” The shuttle demanded, pressing a servo against the back of Drift’s helm to force him further down on his spike. “Filled up like the piece of shareware you are, moaning like a whore who hasn’t been fucked in eons!”

 

Drift responded with another moan, the shuttle laughing as someone smacked his upturned aft, jostling him.

 

“Keep sucking! You want my transfluids don’t you?”

 

No, he didn’t.

 

“I’m quite liking this, Drift! You should see how much lubricant you’re leaking, you dirty slut!”

 

Drift shivered, quite capable of feeling the wetness slicking his thighs and aft, the young mech pressing back into Turmoil’s touch as a shudder passed through his frame and he overloaded. It was hard, causing his valve to clamp down tightly on Turmoil’s arm as the tank laughed in amusement.

 

Dazed, Drift could only cough as the shuttle ripped his spike loose, servos jerking his helm up by the audials before transfluid spattered across his faceplates.

 

Opening his optics, Drift whined softly as he watched the shuttle eagerly rub his spike, painting his faceplates with thick strands of transfluids. It was disgusting and humiliating, but the white and red mech couldn't do anything about it. Not when he was pinned down as he was, with Turmoil slamming into his valve, causing any attempt to form words to fail.

 

It only took a few moments of thrusting into a tight, desperately clenching valve for Turmoil to overload, the tank pressing in as far as he possibly could before overloading with a growl.

 

Drift whimpered softly as transfluids pumped into his valve and leaked out around the swollen spike to trickle down his aft onto the table below, shaking silently as he waited for that dreadful knot, but it never came. Turmoil pulled out before the knot could engage, obviously not interested in that sort of thing when they were in a public place, and Drift was grateful for it. He wasn't sure he could've taken that humiliation atop the others.

 

"Let him up. I'm done with him," the black tank announced with a leer, the other mechs laughing as they released Drift's limbs, allowing the pleasure mech to scramble from the table to the floor where he almost fell. His left hip joint was aching, but Drift paid it no mind as he quickly lost himself in the crowd, hoping to clean up a little before having to serve another. Maybe Turmoil would be gone by then.

 

The slim mech realized there would be no such luck when the bulky frame of Brawl blocked his vision, stepping in front of the shorter mech to block him from leaving. "Where do you think you're going?" The combaticon questioned, Drift grimacing a little as he looked up into the orange visor. "To wash up, Master. I thought it would be-"

 

"Don't bother." Brawl responded, cutting the smaller mech off as he grabbed Drift by the collar to pull him towards the rooms. "Turmoil paid for a private session. He wants it  _now_ , so you'll be a good mech and go and take care of your customer." The larger mech responded, pushing open one of the room doors to shove the smaller mech inside.

 

The door shut behind him before Drift could do anything, blue optics wide and terrified as he quickly spun around to face Turmoil, the black colored mech lounging on one of the couches nearby, a cube of high grade in servo. "Come here, Drift," he purred darkly.

 

Whimpering, Drift didn't dare hesitate as he obediently made his way towards the bigger mech. He knew the dangers of angering Turmoil, and he'd be in enough pain without actually doing so.

 

He would be in a world of pain already.


End file.
